with a
carelessness that was almost grace, or Cora talking smart slang in young
lady-like tones.

'To what end?' thought Victoria. 'What are we doing here, wasting our
lives, I suppose, to feed these boys. For what's the good of feeding
them so that they may scrawl figures in books and catch trains and
perhaps one day, unless they've got too old, marry some dull girl and
have more children than they can keep? We girls, we're wasted too.' So
strongly did she feel this that, one day, she prospected the unexplored
ground of Cora's mind.

'What are you worrying about?' remarked Cora, after Victoria had tried
to inflame her with noble discontent. 'I don't say it's all honey, this
job of ours, but you can have a good time pretty well every night, can't
you, let alone Sundays?'

'But I don't want a good time,' said Victoria, suddenly inspired. 'I
want to feel I'm alive, do something.'

'Do what?' said Cora.

'Live, see things, travel.'

'Oh, we don't get a chance, of course,' said Cora. 'I'll tell you how it
is, Vic, you want too much. If you want anything in life you've got to
want nothing, then whatever you get good seems jolly good.'

'You're a pessimist, Cora,' said Victoria smiling.

'Meaning I see the sad side? Don't you believe it. Every cloud has a
silver lining, you know.'

'And every silver lining has a cloud,' said Victoria, sadly.

'Now, Vic,' answered Cora crossly, 'don't you go on like that. You'll
only mope and mope. And what's the good of that, I'd like to know.'

'Oh, I don't know,' said Victoria, 'I like thinking of things. Sometimes
I wish I could make an end of it. Don't you?'

'Lord, no,' said Cora, 'I make the best of it. You take my tip and don't
think too much.'

Victoria bent down in her chair, her chin upon her open palm. Cora
slapped her on the back.

'Cheer up,' she said, 'we'll soon be dead.'

Victoria had also attempted Gladys, but had discovered without surprise
that her association with Cora had equalised their minds as well as the
copper of their hair. Lottie never said much when attacked on a general
subject, while Bella never said anything at all. Since the day when
Victoria had attempted to draw her out on the fateful question 'What's
the good of anything?' Bella Prodgitt had looked upon Victoria as a
dangerous revolutionary. At times she would follow the firebrand round
the shop with frightened and admiring eyes. For her Victoria was
something like the brilliant relation